


Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright: The Dog and Duck

by RainyMeadows



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Layton Kyouju vs Gyakuten Saiban | Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alcohol, Beer, Bisexual Disaster Phoenix Wright, Bisexual Hershel Layton, Comedy, Disbarred Phoenix Wright, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Hat Swapping, M/M, Two very smart men get totally sloshed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25168321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyMeadows/pseuds/RainyMeadows
Summary: Two men. Two glasses. One pub. Who will win in this epic showdown of liver against liver? Loosely tied to The Families of Jean Descole
Relationships: Hershel Layton/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40





	Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright: The Dog and Duck

There he was. That hideous cyan hat was unmistakable.

“Phoenix?” Hershel adjusted his hat as he closed the pub’s door. “What are you doing here?”

Phoenix glanced back over his shoulder.

“Ah,” he said when he saw who it was. “Hey, Hershel. Don’t worry, I’m fine, I just felt like having a drink.”

Confused, Hershel approached and sat at the bar beside him, relieved that the proprietor hadn’t allowed the music louder than a background whisper.

“I had no idea you were interested in alcohol,” he commented. “I seem to recall you mentioning a preference for grape juice over wine, just as an example.”

“Hey, I drink!” Phoenix argued back. “I’ve just not had anybody to drink _with!_ It’s not the sort of thing you want to do alone, you know?”

He traced a finger around the edge of a nearby coaster.

“And besides,” he went on, “when you’ve got a kid, there are certain things you have to learn to avoid. You know that by now, right?”

Hershel nodded.

“Indeed I do,” he admitted. “Not only that, but when you have multiple children, each requires a different method of avoidance tailored to their personality. For example, I have to give Des a daily reminder not to cuss around Katrielle, but Alfendi doesn’t seem to care one way or the other.”

He looked down the polished oak bar they were both seated at.

“I can’t help but notice,” he said, “that you appear not to have ordered anything.”

Phoenix gave him a nervous smile.

“Well, I…” And an equally nervous laugh. “To be honest, part of me hoped you’d come along because I don’t have any idea what to order.”

To be expected from one unfamiliar with the country, Hershel considered, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Excuse me?” He flagged down the barkeeper. “May we please have two pints of your strongest ale?”

He watched, heart beating a little faster than normal, as two enormous glasses of bubbling amber liquid were poured out and set before him and his partner.

“I must warn you now,” he said as he took his up, “the beer on our side of the pond is a good deal more alcoholic than that which you may be accustomed to.”

“Hey, I’m cool with that,” Phoenix replied flippantly. “American beer tastes like piss.”

Hershel flinched at the sudden swearing, and part of him hoped his partner wouldn’t notice.

“Well,” Phoenix said as he picked up his glass, “bottom’s up.”

* * *

_One_

Hershel rested his empty glass on the bar while Phoenix slammed his down with a satisfied sigh.

“Man, that hit the spot,” he breathed.

“I must admit,” said Hershel, “you’ve never struck me as the type to have an excursion simply for the purpose of inebriation.”

“Seriously?” Phoenix scoffed. “Hershel, when I met your brother last week, he tried to scare me off because I look like a goddamn hobo. What about me says I don’t go out just to get wasted?”

He gestured at himself, pointing from his flashy hat to his baggy sweatpants and everything in-between.

Hershel wiped a finger over the condensation on his glass.

“I suppose there isn’t anything I can do to deny that,” he decided.

“But what about you?” asked Phoenix. “I kind of figured a gentleman didn’t get drunk.”

“I have my moments, Phoenix,” said Hershel, and he gave the man a gentle smile. “You should have seen the things Clark and I got up to during our university days.”

Phoenix snorted in laughter.

“I’m sorry, but no,” he said. “I just can’t imagine the great Professor Layton as a wild drunk college student!”

“I wouldn’t say ‘wild’ per se,” Hershel corrected, “but we certainly got up to some shenanigans between our studies. Do you know how London is supposedly one of the most haunted cities on the face of this planet?”

Phoenix stared at him in alarm.

“I do now!” he spluttered.

“It’s a city rich with history,” Hershel explained, “and that history is fraught with conflict and crime, so of course there are going to be rumours of ghosts and ghouls abounding around every corner. Even the London Underground has its fair share of spectral travellers riding along the rails, and after a night not dissimilar to this when Clark and I had a little too much cider, we decided we would conduct our own little ghost hunt.”

Another snort of laughter.

“I can’t say we were very successful,” Hershel confessed. “Clark thought he came across the spirit of a Victorian gentleman, but it turned out to be a very confused man in a grey suit. I thought I had found the ghost of a dog, but as the railway security pointed out, it was little more than a stray. Which, in hindsight, I should have realised by the smell.”

Phoenix slapped a hand over his face in a futile effort to stifle his laughing.

“I will admit,” said Hershel, unable to avoid smiling right along with him, “it wasn’t the proudest moment of my life.”

“I just…” Phoenix struggled to breathe. “I’m just imagining you and your friend stampeding around London, drunk as hell and trying to play Ghostbusters with confused randos on the street! Those _poor people!_ ”

Hershel tried to envision the event from a third-person perspective. Him and Clark interrogating confused pedestrians on whether or not they had seen any spirits, Clark forming a crucifix with his fingers at a very baffled Tube passenger, himself patting a dog and wondering why his hand wasn’t passing through it…

He raised a hand to his mouth to try to hide his snigger.

“Yes,” he said. “Rather embarrassing, I must admit.”

He looked down into his glass, empty save for the remnants of white foam that clung to its sides.

“It’s a memory I rather feel like drowning out,” he told Phoenix. “Shall we have another pint?”

Phoenix struggled to swallow his snickering.

“Yeah, alright,” he agreed. “I don’t think I’m feeling it yet.”

* * *

_Two_

Hershel stared in amazement.

“Good grief!” he gasped. “I know you’ve told me you have no gag reflex, but I hadn’t expected anything like _that!_ ”

Phoenix slammed his glass down again.

“How long did that take me?” he asked.

“I would say…” Hershel wracked his brain. “Around five seconds!”

“And you took fifteen,” Phoenix pointed out. “Guess I’ve just got a more flexible throat than you.”

He sniggered to himself with a satisfied smirk.

“I’ll give you something you could flex your throat around…” Hershel muttered.

“Huh?” Phoenix blinked at him in confusion. “What was that?!”

A thrill of horror flooded down Hershel’s spine.

What in the world could have prompted him to say something as lewd as _that?!_

He looked down at his hands. His fingertips were tingling, but the rest of his body felt warm and cozy. His face in particular felt like it was burning, although whether that was from embarrassment or the alcohol, he couldn’t tell.

“My apologies,” he said. “I can’t say I’m sure what prompted me to say that.”

“Hey, I don’t mind,” Phoenix replied casually, and he leaned his arm into Hershel’s shoulder. “Not like I’ve never had thoughts like those every now and again.”

Hershel felt as though his face should have grown even hotter than before.

But somehow, he felt like laughing.

“Have you, now?” he asked daringly. “Only about me? Or have there been any other lovers to pass through the life of the great Phoenix Wright?”

Phoenix stared down into his empty glass, tracing his finger down the length of a trickle of foam.

“Obviously yes,” he replied after a few moments of thought. “I mean, I had a girlfriend in college and a few flings between then and when I first met you, Hershel. But I’d hesitate to call any one of them a lover, considering none of them really went any further than a one-night stand.”

He pressed the glass to his lips again, trying to swallow the last few dregs that were left.

“How about you?” he asked once he had given up on that endeavour. “Care to share the story of the Lost Loves of Professor Layton?”

Hershel idly swilled the foam around in the bottom of his glass.

“Prior to you,” he told Phoenix, “the only person I’ve ever entered into a serious relationship with was Claire. I was too socially uncomfortable before I met her and too dedicated to her memory after I lost her to even consider sharing such intimacy with any other person.”

A flush of heat spread across his cheeks again.

“Well, there was one night when I was a teenager,” he admitted, “when my friend Randall and I got a little curious and…”

He cleared his throat.

“I don’t think I’m intoxicated enough to go into any more detail than that,” he said.

“That’s fair,” said Phoenix. “But…”

His hand shifted across the bar, closer to where Hershel’s arm rested.

“…but I’m glad,” he continued, “that of all the people you could have chosen to end up with once you felt ready, you decided to give me a chance.”

Hershel felt himself flush again.

“You don’t have to flatter me like that,” he chided.

“I’m serious!” Phoenix clapped his hand on Hershel’s arm. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since Trucy came into my life. I love you, Hershel. I love you more than I think I’ll ever be able to tell you!”

The warmth in Hershel’s stomach grew stronger.

He gently rested his hand on top of Phoenix’s.

“I love you too, Phoenix,” he replied. “I love you too.”

Phoenix’s cheeks glowed pink in the pub’s soft light.

His smile was soft and grateful, and the sight of it made Hershel’s heart skip a beat. His stomach buzzed. He felt like a nervous schoolboy all over again.

He leaned forward, following his partner’s lead, and his eyes fell closed as he allowed their lips to meet. He saw nothing but darkness, heard nothing but the clinking of glasses and faint chatter and music, felt nothing but the warmth of Phoenix’s body through his soft lips and a gentle hand brushing down his cheek to cradle his jaw and pull him closer.

It was with reluctance that they broke apart after what felt like a lifetime, and he opened his eyes to see Phoenix there, close enough to kiss again. The layered tones of brown and blue in his eyes were nothing short of enchanting.

“Shall we…” Phoenix gave an indicative glance to the door.

Hershel took a moment to think.

“No,” he decided. “Not while we’re inebriated.”

A few more moments of thought and Phoenix nodded in agreement.

“We can still kiss though, can’t we?”

“Absolutely.”

And he leaned in again, and as their lips connected, Hershel traced his fingertips down the arrow-straight edge of Phoenix’s jawline. The softness of his skin, contradicted by his rough, scratchy stubble, yet if he traced down just a _little_ further, he was met by the smoothness of his neck, the solid muscle of his shoulder buried under thick layers of fabric…

…he remembered what it had been like to bury his face in that shoulder, kiss that smooth skin, pulled taut over muscle, feel those strong yet gentle hands running down his side, over his waist to his hips, to revel in this man’s warmth and wish they would never part again…

…to break the kiss this time felt nothing short of agonising.

But they couldn’t. Not while they were drunk. It would only lead to mistakes, discomfort, and regret by the time the morning rolled around.

He opened his eyes. Face to face again.

How _wonderful_ he looked in this soft golden light…

“…shall we have another drink?” Hershel asked, barely able to speak above a whisper.

“Yeah,” sighed Phoenix. “Good idea.”

* * *

_Four_

As he lowered his empty glass, Hershel couldn’t help but hear a strange breath from by his side.

When he looked over at his partner, he saw wetness sparkling in Phoenix’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning into the larger man’s body and intertwining their fingers. “Phoenix, darling, what’s the matter?”

Phoenix sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“I was just thinking about everything,” he replied. “Everything that’s come into my life over the past few years. My new job… my new daughter… my new you…”

A tear trickled down his unshaved cheek.

“You and Trucy and everybody’s been so nice to me,” he moaned, “and I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to pay you back!”

“No, no, Phoenix!” Hershel hugged him from the side and patted his head. “We aren’t nice to you because we want something in return. We’re nice to you because you deserve and because we want to be! And me and Trucy… Trucy and I are nice to you because we love you and want you to be happy!”

He rocked on his stool, still cradling Phoenix in his arms, and pressed their warm, flushed cheeks against one-another. He barely even noticed how much the American’s stubble scratched up his skin, but some part of him knew that his red cheeks would do a decent job of hiding any damage.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, sweetheart,” he whispered as soothingly as he could. “Nothing at all.”

He pressed a kiss to his partner’s temple.

“My Phoenix,” he muttered. “My sunflower. My sun-bun. My sunny bunny. My sunny baby. My sun baby.”

“You’re not even making any sense!” Phoenix whined.

“I know, darling, I know,” Hershel murmured. “Just don’t worry about anything, alright? You don’t have anything to worry about. Why don’t…”

He wracked his brain. What was the word again? Everything felt rather fuzzy and it was difficult to think.

“…how about…” Ah yes, that was it! “How about a puzzle?”

Phoenix sniffed.

“Okay,” he said. “Go ahead.”

Hershel settled back on his stool and cleared his throat.

“You got…” It took him a moment to remember what he was going to ask. “You got two ducks, right? They’re standing in front of two other ducks. An-and and you got two ducks standing behind two ducks. And there are twoooooo ducks beside two ducks.”

He licked some gunk off his lips.

“How many ducks?” he asked. “Ho-how-how how many ducks in total?”

Phoenix’s brows knotted in concentration.

Hershel resisted the urge to hug him again as he processed the puzzle. How was it possible for this man to be so ridiculously _adorable?_

“Si- no…” He held up his hands and counted on his fingers. “Two… and two… and two and two… um…”

His jaw swivelled all over the place, lips pursing and unpursing as he thought.

“Four!” he decided. “You got- you got _four_ ducks all stnanding in a square!”

“Yes, you got it!” Hershel leaned in for another hug. “I’m so proud of you, my sunflower!”

“That was so hard…” Phoenix’s body shook with another little sob. “I can’t believe I solved it!”

“You know, I… I think…”

Hershel paused.

Would it be a good idea? They’d come out to get drunk, and they definitely seemed to be tipsy by now, but would it be okay to go even further?

Well, tomorrow was Saturday and he didn’t have to work, and he could always call home and ask to be picked up, so…

“…I think,” he decided, “you need another drink, Phoenix. We need another drink. Let’s have another drink.”

“Yeah,” said Phoenix, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, let’s, let’s, let’s have another drink.”

* * *

_Six_

“Okay,” said Hershel, trying not to choke on his own tongue. “I got… I got another one for you, sweetheart.”

Phoenix sniffed hard and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Yeah?” he asked. “W-what what is it?”

“If you got…” Hershel swallowed the urge to vomit. “If you got three apples in one hand…” He held up a hand with two fingers raised. “…an-and four apples in your other hand…” He held up his other hand with five fingers raised. “…w-why- who- what have you got? What have you got?”

Phoenix stared down at his hands.

His eyes filled with tears again as he drew a sharp breath.

“I got massive hands!” he whined.

“Yes!” Hershel gave his partner a round of applause. “Yes, that’s right, you sholved it!”

“But my hands are so big!” Phoenix whined, his body shaking with sob after painful sob. “Everybody’s going to be coming to me to open their pickle jars! It’ll take up all my time an-and-and and then I’ll never be able to change the legal world because I’d-I’m-I’ll just be opening pickle jars all day!”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Hershel hugged Phoenix and patted on his head. “Your hands are only normal size, I promise. The apples are all balanced on top of each other. I promise. Your hands are perfect, darling. Perfect. They’re _perfect._ ”

Phoenix gripped on his arms and tried to hug him back, but Hershel’s arms were all he could reach.

What to do to try to cheer him up?

“I know,” said Hershel. “I know, I know, one moment…”

He delicately took the askew top hat off his head and gently positioned it atop Phoenix’s vivid beanie.

“There,” he sighed proudly. “ _Double hat._ ”

Phoenix looked up at his reflection in the mirror that sat behind the bar. He stared at himself, reached up and slowly straightened the top hat on his head. Quite fetching, Hershel considered, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

But then Phoenix took a deep breath and his eyes filled with tears again.

“Too many,” he moaned. “This is too many hats! What am I going to do with all these hats?”

“Phoenix-”

“I can’t afford to take care of _two_ hats!”

“Phoenix, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s okay. Here.”

Hershel gently lifted the top hat and, with his other hand, he tugged the garish beanie off Phoenix’s head, sending messy locks of rich black tumbling out all over the place.

“One hat,” he said happily.

After a moment of thought, he pulled the cyan garment onto his head.

“How does it look?” he asked. “How does- How do I look?”

Phoenix stared at him.

And stared at him.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Hershel offered him a friendly smile.

And then Phoenix burst into tears again.

“You’re so _cute!_ ” he cried. “How do you do it? How in the ever-loving _heck_ are you so adorable?! It’s not fair! It’s really not fair!”

“But you’re cute too!” Hershel leaned in for another hug. “Phoenix, you’re the cutest American I’ve ever fallen in love with. I love you. You’re perfect and I love you. I love you, darling. I love you.”

He pressed a kiss to Phoenix’s stubbly cheek.

Phoenix sniffed pathetically and rubbed Hershel’s hand with his fingers.

“I think…” he moaned. “…maybe…”

“Hmm?” said Hershel.

Phoenix raised a finger, frowning in thought again.

“I think one more,” he said. “One more drink. One more drink and then we go. We go home. We go home and sleep and go home.”

“Okay.” Hershel patted the side of the top hat. “Just the one. One more.”

* * *

_Seven_

Des sighed and rolled his eyes.

“What on earth have you two been doing?” he asked.

“Des!” Hershel leapt up from his stool and ran over to where his brother was standing.

“AH!” Des almost fell back in shock as Hershel wrapped his arms around his chest.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” said Hershel. “Can you take us home? We’re ready to go home. I want to go home. I want…”

He trailed off.

“To go home?” Des offered.

“Mmm.” Hershel nodded against his chest.

Des groaned. That stupid cyan hat looked silly enough on Phoenix, but on Hershel’s head, it looked nothing short of ridiculous.

He looked up at the bar and saw the American in question sitting there, his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking as if he was sobbing. Hershel’s hat was perched atop his mess of tousled black hair, sliding about with his shuddering shoulders.

“Alright.” Des walked over to him, dragging the stumbling Hershel along for the ride. “What’s got you so upset, Wright?”

“Ssh!” Hershel hissed. “Sh-shush, Des, _shush._ Phoenix has a lot of feelings. Shush. Shush. Let him _feel._ ”

Phoenix lowered a hand away from his face. Good lord, this man was _sopping._

“How am I going to pay for all this beer?!” he suddenly cried.

“Oh, good lord,” Des groaned. “Don’t tell me you didn’t bring any money!”

“I did,” Phoenix moaned, “but I’m always paying so much for everything and I never have any money! How am I going to put all my kids through college?!”

Des stared in bafflement.

“You have _one_ daughter,” he pointed out.

“Mmmmmmmmm,” hummed Hershel, still nuzzling Des’ chest.

Heaven’s sake, these two were _hopeless._

Des pulled his wallet out, snatched up a fistful of twenties and slammed them on the bar.

“Keep the change,” he snapped at the barkeep as he grabbed Phoenix’s collar. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He stormed out of the pub, dragging Phoenix by the back of his outrageous jacket and struggling not to trip over Hershel, who still clung to his chest.

“Be glad I’m experienced in driving manual,” he told the hapless pair as they approached the car. “Otherwise I would have called a cab and forced you two idiots to find your own way home.”

“But you wouldn’t, would you?” asked Hershel as Des unlocked the car. “You love me. You love me just as much as I love you. And Des?”

“What?” Des paused with the key in the lock.

Hershel looked up at him with a dopy smirk, thumping his chin against his brother’s chest.

“I love you,” he said happily.

Des sighed as he opened the back-seat door.

“I love you too,” he replied. “Now _get in._ ”

He tossed Phoenix into the back of the car, and the taller man splayed across the row of seats before he even had a chance to start crying again.

“Oh, for-” Des reached up to prise Hershel’s arms off. “Heaven’s sake, Hershel! If you want someone to cuddle, your bloody boyfriend is right there! I need to _drive!_ ”

He scraped his brother off his body and tossed him into the car on top of Phoenix, and shoved their legs inside so that he could close the door.

By the time he had got into the driver’s seat, they were already kissing furiously.

So Des drove, trying to ignore the sounds of his baby brother and this American stranger sucking face on the back seat, and reassured himself with the fact that they were going to regret all of this to hell and back when they sobered up tomorrow morning.

And he wasn’t going to make _any_ efforts to quieten or darken the house.

As a matter of fact, he considered as he smiled to himself, maybe he could ask Kat to wake Daddy up as loudly as she could.

At the very least, it wasn’t a long drive. They arrived at their home within minutes and Des wished he had a chance to flash his headlights at these two morons before he turned them off.

He opened the door and startled the two drunkards out of their make-out.

“Come on, you horny simpletons,” he groaned, and he pulled them both out of the car.

Hershel latched onto his chest again, but Phoenix seemed to have _finally_ stopped crying. Maybe he had just exhausted or dehydrated himself to the point that he couldn’t anymore, but either way, it was a relief that he had finally shut up.

He dragged them both inside, closed the door carefully so he didn’t risk waking the kids up, and dragged them both up the stairs. Hershel’s room was nearest, so Des pulled him inside, tossed the duvet back, scraped his brother off again and dumped him on his bed.

“You stay there, alright?” he ordered. “I’ve got to put your idiot boyfriend to bed before I can do anything else.”

“Okay,” Hershel replied happily as he curled up on the mattress. “Bed’s comfy…”

With another roll of his eyes, Des turned and pulled Phoenix out of the room.

“I do hope you know how reckless this all was,” he snapped as quietly as he could. “You could have got yourself and Hershel into serious trouble. You’re lucky he was responsible enough to call me for a lift home!”

“’m sorry…” Phoenix mumbled.

“Oh, save it,” Des sighed.

He pulled the taller man up the stairs and into the attic room they’d converted for guests, and without any care for how he felt about it, he tossed Phoenix onto the bed that sat nestled in the dormer.

“Now go to sleep,” Des ordered as he picked up the fallen top hat. “Go to sleep now and don’t use the bathroom until tomorrow morning. Nobody can handle stairs when they’re as pissed as you and Hershel are.”

“Okay,” Phoenix replied meekly.

After making sure the hat had no dust on it, Des didn’t hesitate to spin on his heel and make for the door. The sooner he could leave this dimwit to sleep, the better.

“Hey, Des?”

He paused at the door.

“What?” he demanded.

He heard the dimwit take a deep breath.

“Thanks for helping us get home,” Phoenix said. “You’re a good brother.”

Des wasn’t sure how to respond.

So he didn’t.

He simply gave a polite “thank you” and left.

The moment he was down the stairs and in the middle floor hallway, he buried his face in his hands and sighed.

For the peaceful life he had always wanted, it certainly could get exhausting.

“Uncle Des?”

The sound of a faint voice drew his attention to a nearby door, where he saw a little round face peering up at him with big blue eyes.

“What’s happening?” asked the tiny girl.

Des gave her a gentle smile.

“It’s nothing to be afraid of, Kat,” he assured his niece. “Daddy and his boyfriend just had a bit too much grown-up silly juice. I’ve taken care of them, so you can go back to sleep, okay?”

Katrielle gave him a tired little nod.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Goodnight, Uncle Des.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

When he was sure she had retreated, Des returned to Hershel’s room.

It took him all of five seconds to realise Hershel had fallen asleep. He was curled up on his side, one hand on his pillow in front of his face, and Des could just about see that Descole the cat had made herself comfortable in the crook of his arm.

For a forty-four-year-old man, it was impressive how he still managed to look so small and innocent.

Taking care to be as quiet and gentle as possible, Des tugged his brother’s shoes off and set them on the floor beside his bed, and he pulled the duvet up and over Hershel’s body to his shoulders.

He pulled the garish cyan hat off his head and set it down, along with the top hat, on the nightstand.

And once he was sure his brother was comfortable, he left him alone to sleep in peace.


End file.
